A Sick Day For Severus Snape
by TheDeadlyViper
Summary: Professor Snape falls ill and must take a sick day. But who will be there to care for the ill potions master?


A Sick Day For Severus Snape

- Severus Snape comes down with a nasty bug. But who will care for the ill potions master? -

It had all started out innocently enough. Severus Snape woke up this particular morning feeling slightly dizzy and disoriented. Almost like he

did when he hadn't had enough sleep. This was a fairly common occurance as Severus generally didn't get more than a few hours worth each

night. That accounted for his pale complexion and the deep, dark circles beneath his eyes. Severus had always had insomnia, but these past few

years it had gotten steadily worse. Now he was lucky to even fall asleep, even if it did take over an hour to do so. Usually he just lie awake. Thinking. About the past. Memories. Regrets. A little guilt. Or a lot, depending on the night. But mostly he thought about the future. Severus was a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. And much blood on his hands.

He forced himself up and out of his four-poster bed and went on with his morning rituals (Which did involve showering, thank you very much.) without much more thought on it. But by breakfast, things had taken a bad turn. Even upon walking into the Great Hall, he was greeted by the smells of sausage, freshly fried in grease, and coffee. Both smelled equally unappitizing and overpowering. Severus took his usual seat at the head table and poured himself a cup of coffee, though the smell of it still made him feel weak and slightly queasy.

"Severus?" Dumbledore spoke up from the right of him. "Are you feeling well this morning?" Damn the man, for having a sixth sense about absolutely everything.

"Fine professor." Severus replied, taking a sip of the bitter black coffee as if to prove his point. Now McGonagall was observing him too. He felt rather like an animal in a zoo.

"You really ought to get more sleep, Severus." She advised, after a moment or two. _'Yes mother,' _ Severus thought rather snidely, but said nothing in response.

He went on with his classes, as planned. Nothing, short of death, would stop him from that. And he actually felt a bit better during his first morning class. Though toward the end of it, he began to fill sort of dodgy again. When the class had finished and the students were filing out the door, Severus sat at his desk at the head of the class room. And debated with himself. He could **not** be ill. He was never ill. A simple cold, here and there. About once a year. But nothing more. And he couldn't remember the last he'd actually thrown up from anything, let alone illness. Probably back in his death eater days. _' I will not vomit.'_ Severus told himself rationally. '_I refuse. The nausea will pass. I will go on with my day, as usual.'_ Severus was also a man of routine. And he didn't fancy anything screwing up his daily routine. In response to this bold statement, Severus's stomach churned. _'Oh Merlin. Please let it pass. I'll take a potion. It'll go away.' _But Severus couldn't even get out of his chair. Let alone make a potion for his nausea. Nor could he get up and walk himself to the hospital wing to get a potion from Poppy. Funny flaw about anti-nausea potions, anyway. If you were sick enough, you'd merely throw the potion back up before it could have any effect on you. Bloody hell. Why was he thinking about that? His stomach did a flip and he groaned. Ok. Fuck the psychology. He was going to be sick.

He made it. But only just barely. There was a bathroom in his office. Upon reaching it, he fell to his knees and retched most violently. He threw up most of the coffee he'd drunk during breakfast and some of the previous night's meal as well. After it was over, he managed to reach over and flush the toilet. Then knelt there for a few more minutes, gasping in breath and attempting to recover from the violent fit. His stomach felt empty, but didn't seem to ache any less. And to top it off -

"Professor?" Severus nearly jumped out of his very skin at the voice. He knew the voice all too well. He didn't even have to glance over his shoulder, but he did anyway.

"Malfoy." Oh. Bloody wonderful. Bad enough to throw up at all. Severus hated to puke. He probably hated it more than all of the other things he claimed to hate so much. But he especially hated doing the deed in front of anyone else. Most especially a student. And even more especially a student that he rather liked, on the whole. No, it couldn't have been Neville Longbottom. If it had, Severus would have been glad to dock about 100 house points just for witnessing the episode. But no, logic dictated that it would be Malfoy. "What do you want?" He asked, in the nastiest go-away voice he could muster.

"Er." Draco was shifting in the doorway, all but dancing from foot to foot in his discomfort. His cheeks were flushed a delicate pink.

Severus managed to stand and wipe the sweaty strands of black hair that had fallen in his eyes.

"Oh. Honestly Malfoy. What did you think? That I was immortal somehow? Or a vampire?" He demanded to know, whirrling to glare right at the blonde-haired boy. Somehow Snape was still just as intimidating, even after what Malfoy had just seen. "Well I'm not. I'm human, Malfoy. I sleep. (Sometimes.) I eat. I get sick and vomit my bloody guts up. Just like everyone else." Oh. That was an appetizing image. Vomiting one's bloody guts up.

"I know that." Draco was now looking a bit irritated himself.

"Then what? Out with it! What do you want?" Severus demanded furiously. It was all so frusterating. He wasn't above docking Slytherin house points either. And it was getting to that point.

"I just...I wanted to." Malfoy was still dancing from foot to foot rather ridiculously. "Wanted to...make sure. You were. Okay." It seemed to be like pulling teeth for him to say so.

"BLOODY HELL!" Severus roared, making Draco jump. He wasn't fine. Any fool could see that. But he would be. "I'm fine, Malfoy. Just fine. Now leave me alone." Honestly, the boy's hero worship of him almost made him sick. As a matter of fact...He leaned over the toilet once more, waiting patiently for the second attack to strike. "Go. Get out of here." he added, for good measure.

But to Severus' striking surprise. Malfoy didn't leave. He merely stood there, stupidly. "What don't you understand about...ugh." Severus gave a slight groan. His stomach was knotting up in a way he didn't really like. "About the words go. And away?" he finished. No response. Honestly, had Lucius' spawn gone completely soft in the head?

"Look Draco." Severus began again, without looking at him. "I'm going to vomit. Again. I'm a sick man. And while you're one of my favorite students, and I think we both know that...I don't think either of us are comfortable with this...situation. Certainly not me. Anyway. So kindly...bugger off!" Having said this, Severus was satisfied and when he looked up, Draco had dissapeared from his spot lingering in the doorway. Finally. Freedom to vomit in peace...ugh. This day was **not** going as well as he'd hoped.

Severus' relief was only temporary, however. He was in the grips of fighting off another wave of nausea, trying to keep down what he had left in his stomach when Draco returned. A glass of water in hand. Excellent. First he was merely annoying and irritating. Now he wanted to play nurse maid?

"Good god." Severus managed to gasp. "Can't you see I want to be left alone?" He asked, but now he was just too weak to fight it. Let Malfoy stand there and play dumb, if he wanted. Severus had more important things to worry about.

"Yes. I can see that." Draco replied coyly and set the glass down near the sink. "But, I don't think you ought to be left alone." He said this with such confidence that Severus couldn't respond. Well, that and he was too busy retching. And too busy retching to be able to throw off Draco's hand, which was now resting lightly against his back. _'Why is he doing this to me?' _Severus had to wonder. Hadn't he always treated Draco with fairness, for the most part? Hadn't he been a decent professor? An excellent head of Slytherin's house? Why then, did Draco feel the need to torture him like this? It was a simple request. Leave me alone. Why couldn't it be followed? When the second fit seemed to end, Draco passed him the glass of water. Severus took it, only because he actually needed it.

"Draco. I'm an adult. I'm perfectly capable of caring for myself when I'm ill." Severus pointed out, after flushing the toilet again and swallowing some of the icy cold water.

"I know that." Draco replied easily.

"Then why? For Merlin's sake why, won't you just go off and bother someone else for a change?"

Draco gave a bit of a shrug. "You're my favorite professor."

"Well that's no excuse!" Severus said, straightening up. "If I were really your favorite professor, you'd do me a favor and -"

"Bugger off. I know." Draco finished. "I think you ought to get into bed."

"Ohhhh no. No. No. Absolutely not. Forget it. In fact. Unthink it. I am **not **spending the day with you. I don't care if I'm dying or not." Severus shook his head fiercely.

"Oh shut up. You're not dying. It's a stomach bug."

"Well, obviously I'm not dying you bloody fool!" Severus stomped out of the bathroom, Draco following like a shadow on a sunny day. And Severus Snape hated sunny days. There was an antechamber in the office that led to Severus' modest living quarters whilst the school year was in session. It wasn't much. A table. Chair. Bed. Though the bed itself was a rather nice four-poster job. This is where he went and Draco followed, not even having enough common courtesy to ask to be invited in.

"I really think you ought to lay down." Draco suggested again, a bit more forcefully.

"And I think you really ought to go away. But it doesn't appear that either of us are getting the things we want, does it?" Severus asked, arching a brow sharply. That was it. It was all Draco could take. Even from his 'favorite professor'. He had limits.

"I'm trying to help you dammit!" He hollered, nearly causing Severus himself to jump - as he'd caused Draco to do earlier. "And if you don't lie down in that bed." He went on, calmly. "I'm going to paralyze you with a hex and put you there myself." Well. Needless to say, that shut Severus up for a stretch of time. He crawled into his bed, flowing black robes still affixed. Draco drew near and pulled the black and emerald bedding over him. "Ok. Better. Now I'm going to go tell Dumbledore that you're ill and incapable of teaching for the rest of the -"

"NOoooo. Oh. No. Don't do that." Severus sat up. "I'm fine. Just fine." That had caused a peak of mild panic to rise up in him. Severus had NEVER missed a class. Ever. And he didn't plan on making a habit out of it.

"Oh yeah? Do you want me to be the only student to see you spew your guts up or not?" Draco asked, very cooly. Touche. Score one for Malfoy.

"Oh." Severus was mostly silent as he worked this out in his mind. Maybe if he took plenty of breaks...sipped water..he could go get that anti-nausea potion now.

"It's finished. I'm going. If you try to get up, I'll tell Dumbledore you've got a high fever and you're hallucinating anyway." Oh. Another score. Draco could really be very persuasive when he wanted to be. Of course, that wasn't surprising. Lucius could be persuasive too. But Lucius' idea of persuading someone usually meant torturing them into saying yes. In that sense, he supposed Draco had a lot more diplomatic skill. "As I was saying, when I've finished doing that. I'm going to the hospital wing to get something to help settle your stomach." Well. Severus couldn't argue that one. He certainly needed it. Finally, relenting, he waved him off and closed his eyes.

Draco was back within the hour, armed with two bottles. The first was ginger syrup, quite obviously. The second, by looking at the swirling contents, appeared to be the same sort of anti-nausea potion that Severus would have chosen for himself. Plus, as a benefit - it included a fever reducer. Poppy was very good at her job.

"She said to take the ginger syrup every hour. Or whenever you need it. And if you can manage to hold it down, then this one." He held up the other bottle to show Severus, but Severus had already figured out what it was.

"And who is filling in my classes?" Severus asked, sitting up and giving a groan when the act made his stomach churn again.

"Binns."

"What?!" Severus blinked. "Pardon? Excuse me? I could have...I must be more ill than I imagined. I could have sworn you just said that Professor Binns was filling in my afternoon classes."

"Yep." Draco was shaking the bottle of ginger syrup and didn't seem to grasp the sheer importance of this question.

"Binns? BINNS?" Severus hollered. "Binns is a wheezing. Old. Ghost. How in the hell...pardon. How in the BLOODY hell is he going to teach MY class?"

"Well..." Draco squinted his eyes, trying to read any instructions that might be appended to the bottle of ginger syrup. "He's one of the few professors who only has first years for students. Plus, he's a ghost. Like you already said. It's not as if he's got much to do aside from teach."

"Oh." Severus shook his head. "No! Potions is an interactive class! Binns is only capable of reciting the same material he's already taught for the past few **decades**. How's he going to react if one of those dolts they refer to as students, sets the entire school ablaze with one of my potions?"

Draco smirked. "Depends. Were you planning on teaching exploding potions today?"

"Oh. Funny. Hilarious, Malfoy." Severus glared hard at him. "Besides. If we're talking Longbottom here, we both know he's perfect capable of causing explosions in things that aren't even supposed to be physically possible to explode." Draco gave another grin.

"Good point." And for the first time that morning, Severus actually relaxed. Felt a bit better. Almost smiled. Almost.

"Relax Professor." Draco said in a soothing sort of way. "It's out of your hands now. And Binns is actually a pretty capable professor. For a ghost anyway...well. The point is that Professor Dumbledore seems to think so. And Dumbledore knows best...right?" He said this last bit pretty cynically and Severus had to suspect some sarcasm.

"I suppose so." For a moment, Severus pondered Draco's level of maturity. At first he'd seen the boy come to this school. Arrogant. Narcassitic. Not quite evil. But sometimes just flat-out cruel. And he was still all of those things. But he'd also developed quite well. For a boy of sixteen, he carried himself as if he were in his 20's. Growing up too quickly did that to a boy. Severus ought to know that well enough. He watched Draco pour out the thick syrup into a spoon and held it out to him. Severus took it willingly enough, though the taste made him want to retch all over again. It was far too sweet. Exhausted now, he lay back against his pillows. And passed out cold.

The rest of his afternoon was spent in a hellish haze. He woke up sweating and shivering. Swallowing ginger syrup and cold water. In and out of sleep. And of course, vomiting at regular intervals. And each time, to his horror. Draco was there. Helping him to the bathroom. Holding up the waste bin. Feeding him medicene. He didn't understand it. He didn't want to understand it. And he was far too ill to care anymore. Finally, as it grew to be dinner time, Severus began to feel better. The fever broke down. He could hold down the ginger syrup. And the awaited time came where he could actually take the anti-nausea potion. It did him a world of good. Potions always did the trick. He probably looked a horrific mess. But he felt better. That's what mattered.

Draco was sitting over in the corner where the table and chair were. Reading a book and writing on parchment. Doing his school work. Or as much as he had. Suddenly Severus realized Draco had missed an entire day of school for this. To care for him. Oh it was wrong. It was horribly wrong. Why did he let him get away with it? 'Because he wouldn't take no for an answer'. His inner voice responded. But somehow the answer just wasn't good enough.

"Tomorrow. You're working double time. I'm going to be asking an essay from you. Due the following day. In addition to your regular school work." Severus said, sitting up and wiping his lank black hair from his eyes. Any other student would have been pissed. Beyond belief. But Draco didn't seem to mind. He set down his quill and glanced over his shoulder.

"I can see you're feeling better." He pointed out. He understood. Severus wasn't just being a jerk to pick on him. He didn't want Draco to get caught behind. Or slow down. "Do you think you could eat something?"

Severus nodded. He still wasn't feeling exactly right as rain. Or anything close to it. But he could eat. Probably needed to.

"Alright. I'll get you something." Draco stood up, stretched and left. The moment he was gone, the thought came back. Why was Malfoy being so...so nice? In his own way. At least. But he didn't have time to ponder long. Draco came back with a tray. Tomato soup. Salted crackers. Foods meant to soothe an upset stomach. He brought the tray over and set it down, returning to the table to finish his school work. Severus ate, without much joy. But the soup went down easily and the crackers seemed to help. He set the tray aside and watched Malfoy. Leaning over a book. Studying it. Writing something down. He was intelligent. Everyone knew that. It's what drove the other professors insane. He wasn't just a blind fool, like his companions - Crabbe and Goyle. He was a genius when it came to school work. He passed nearly all his tests and scored higher than everyone else. Almost everyone else. Aside from Hermione Granger. And Severus didn't even want to think about that particular student at the moment. Not when he was still feeling so ill. It's what drove people absolutely batty. Draco was smart. And totally out of control. If he were dumber, he'd be easier to manage. In a way, it reminded Severus of how he'd been, when he was a student at this very school. There were slight differences. But plenty of similarities. If only. If only he could stop Draco. Protect him. From making the same mistakes he himself had made. The whole thing was worrying. Severus could easily picture Draco using this intelligence, not on his school work - but to create a magical device that would detonate a string of bombs to blow up the entire Ministry of Magic. The kid was, in so many words, frighteningly intelligent.

"Draco. I have to ask you again. Why did you do all of this?" Severus was attentive now. The question wasn't being aimed to incite him. Merely curiosity. And Draco, apparently satisfied with the way the question had been asked, set his quill down and turned in his chair.

"I already told you. Your my favorite professor." He replied. Severus shook his head. It didn't add up. There was more.

"And." Draco was reddening suddenly. Blushing. Staring at his feet. "And. I. I think. I mean...I know. I want...-"

Severus cut him off with a quick shake of the head. He wasn't a fool himself. He could already sense where this was going. Into dangerous territory.  
"No. Don't tell me. Don't. I don't want to know."

"But I...I think I'm..." Draco attempted to explain but Severus was shaking his head. All but sticking his fingers in his ears and going 'La la la la I don't hearrrr you.'

"No. No. No." Severus shook more violently than ever. "Don't finish that thought. Please."  
"Why not?" Draco looked absolutely crushed. Dejected. And to be perfectly honest, Severus didn't feel good about it himself. Letting him down. But he had to.

"Because you can't. If you do, this...whole conversation will stray into a place that I cannot go. I cannot. Do you understand that?" Severus asked, standing up, despite how weak he felt after the day's activities.

"Why not?" Draco was being purposefuly ignorant. He wasn't getting what he wanted.

"You know exactly why not. And don't play stupid. It doesn't suit you." Severus replied, pulling his flowing robes tightly around him. "Just. No."

"But I...It..." Draco stood up. "Why the hell not?"

"Because! You know all of the reasons. Shall I name them all?" Severus held up his hand and ticked them off one by one. "Because I'm easily twice your age. I could be your father. It's illegal, even in the wizarding world. Your father would kill me. Were he to ever figure it out. Your mother would kill me. The Dark Lord himself, would kill me. In other words, my life span would be drastically shortened. By someone. Any number of someone's. And most importantly. I would LOSE my job!" he was angry now. Not angry. Bitter. Cynical. Color was standing out in his pale complexion for a variety of reasons. Even discussing it made him nervous.

"So?" Draco stuck out his lower lip, like a selfish child.

"So?!" Severus paced. "So? So? Do you realize, boy, that this job. Teaching. Is about the only good thing I've got in my life? Not to mention the serious danger I'm in and you know what I'm talking about. I don't think I have to tell you. If I lose my job, I'll lose my standing with Voldemort. I will be dead. Do you understand? Dead! I'll have an avada kedavra pulled out on me so quickly, I won't even know what hit me. I'll be completely useless to Voldemort. Even death eaters don't support child molestation, you know." Severus winced. Even those words seemed a bit harsh.

"Only if they find out." Draco said this with a smirk and an arched brow. In any other situation, Severus would have laughed. Maybe. But not now.  
"No. Sorry, Draco. Sorry. I truly am. In another time. A completely different place. Maybe. But not now. Not here." He shook his head. "You're very persuasive. You're very intelligent. You're a wonderful student to have. But that's all it amounts to. And you won't win this one. Sorry." Why exactly was he apologizing just so damn much? He actually did feel guilty. To deny him. Draco watched him for a moment. His gaze was flickering. First to anger. Sadness. Anger. Sadness. It was a damned card game. And for a moment, Severus Snape was actually worried. He'd already pointed out to himself, Draco's blinding intelligence. And his tendancy to use it for evil. Not good. Pissing him off was definately not something, even he himself, wanted to do. It could very well be his classroom exploding with a string of bombs as easily as the Ministry of Magic. With him inside. But after a moment, the anger seemed to pass. Tears stood out in the boy's eyes. Tears he didn't want Professor Snape to see. He rubbed them away with his sleeve, angrily.

"Alright. I understand. I guess." And without another word, Draco fled from the room. Leaving him alone for the first time that day. And it didn't feel nearly as good as he thought it would. He returned to his bed. Crawled into it. And pulled the black and emerald bedding up to his chin.  
It wasn't fair. Nor was it right. "Thank you Draco." he murmured to himself, hating the way the silence seemed suddenly very noticeable. "Thank you for doing this. Thank you for caring. Thank you for maybe even lov..." No. He couldn't finish that thought. In a few years maybe. Graduation was fairly close. A few short years. Draco would be eighteen. It would still be difficult to pull off. But it was more possible. And perhaps, if Draco still felt that way, though Severus highly doubted that he would, two years was an awfully long time to a boy. Perhaps then. There would be time. To develop the relationship further. But for now. He gave a long sigh. A dejected one. Why was it. Why was it that he never got what he wanted? No matter what. Things never came his way.

Severus Snape was a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. And much blood on his hands.


End file.
